Warning: There are references to sexual assault in this piece.
1974: Back row of the classroom where the 13-year-old boys take you for a fingering session.
Continue reading “My Puberty Blues and beyond”My life is measured out by coffee spoons.
Warning: There are references to sexual assault in this piece.
1974: Back row of the classroom where the 13-year-old boys take you for a fingering session.
Continue reading “My Puberty Blues and beyond”
Summer holidays means putting on the Golden Breed T-shirt and the wrap around batik skirt. Summer means cuddling up to a blonde bloke with scraggy hair who smells of surf and weed and sex. We sit around a campfire on the back beach. Someone burps in the dark.
My love affair with America began with TV in the 1970s.
The first time I cook a turkey is a week before my mother dies.
On a hot night in early February 2001, two kittens were dumped over our fence. Continue reading “Farewell little cat”
I’m a late convert to podcasts. My introduction was on a camping trip when a friend sat on a chair for five days straight as she listened to Serial. I didn’t get it.
Continue reading “Podcasts. What the hell are they?”To honour three women who have died recently I decided to have a day doing ‘stuff’ in their memory.
We all know the rules of social distancing in these Covid times. The idea of masking up and the importance of doing the right thing.
Continue reading “The Power of a good hug”I went for a walk through Coburg cemetery the other day. Not somewhere I’d normally go but it’s within my 5 km limit plus I’d run out of walks. Not hard during a pandemic when you end up feeling that you’re walking around in circles.
Continue reading “A walk amongst the graves”I woke with a start on the eve of my birthday. It was 4am and my heart was racing. I woke from a dream where the sky had turned inky black and the turreted faux-Dakota building apartment complex across the valley – burst into flames.
Continue reading “A very pandemic birthday”